No Strings Attached
by WritePassion
Summary: Sam Axe settles into Miami and starts a new life filled with sun, fun, women, and mojitos, in an effort to ease the shame of his "retirement". A prequel to the Burn Notice universe.
1. Chapter 1

_Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it._

_I made some edits to this since I posted yesterday in order to improve the first paragraph. Go ahead, read it again if you've already read it!_

**No Strings Attached**

By WritePassion

When he got off the plane in Miami, Sam Axe was a broken man. If you would have asked him, he would have told you he was fine and that he was ready to leave his career behind and have fun in the sun, party, and enjoy as many women as he could in whatever amount of time he had left in his existence. On the surface, for an ex-SEAL who'd spent his career in one hairy situation after another and was now ready for some R & R, his desire to dive into debauchery seemed reasonable. In reality, he was on a path to self-destruction, because everything he ever fought for had been taken away from him. He was forced out of the Navy in disgrace. In exchange for his pension and a ticket to paradise, Sam agreed to keep mum on a certain admiral's indiscretions regarding his last mission. He had hoped things would end in a more prestigious fashion, rather than a quick tribunal that could easily have been a court martial. Embarrassed, it was easier to hide for awhile, and if anyone asked the details as to why he retired, he would lie. Florida, Miami in particular, was just as good a place as any to disappear. He didn't know anyone there, and with such a large population, he could easily get lost and no one would find him.

Sam had limited funds, and a pension that would only get him so far. He needed to think about more than just having fun. With a heavy sigh of longing, he gravitated away from the swankier hotels on the beach and found a little tucked away motel that required a short hike to the bars and beaches, but it would be easy to navigate back to after closing time.

The first day, he still hadn't quite acclimated to the idea that he was retired. He walked the area to get used to the lay of the land, scoped out the bars and the babes, and generally acted as if he were on a recon. He found one place in particular that caught his eye, Carlito's. Situated on a busy street, with full access to a constant stream of beautiful, scantily clad women, he parked his butt in a chair on the patio and watched the world go by. For a week, every morning he headed for Carlito's and spent hours there, building up a bar tab, and hoping that one of the charming ladies who passed by would respond to his best come hither looks.

To his chagrin, the younger ones left him alone. They either shook their heads or laughed at him. But no one could ever accuse Sam Axe of not being persistent. He kept trying, even as he soothed his ego with lies that they were closed-minded and they didn't know what they were missing. They'd be sorry, turning their noses up at a golden opportunity.

At the end of the month, his world came to a screeching halt. The server, Jeanine, came to him as soon as he sat down that morning. For an old guy, he was nice, charming, and even kind of cute. He flirted with her all the time, but she knew he was harmless. So she flirted back now and then, and their relationship blossomed. Which made it all that much harder to do what she had to do.

"Mr. Axe... Sam."

Sam grinned as he looked up at her. "Hey, Jeannie, doll. I'll start with a beer today."

Her face contorted into an expression of discomfort as she replied, "I'm sorry, Sam. Rico wants me to collect on your tab first before we start with a new month."

"Okay, well, how bad is it?" One eye squinted. He had a feeling it wasn't going to be pretty.

She slowly pulled out a long strip of register tape with two fingers holding it suspended between them. She watched as Sam's eyes dropped to the bottom line, widened, and closed down again. If he hadn't been so tan from sitting there every day, most likely he would have been as pale as the sandy beaches. "I'm sorry. Rico won't let us serve you any more drinks until it's paid in full."

"Look, it's the end of the month. I don't have that kind of cash! I'll get my pension check next week, and I can pay it off then. I promise." He looked up at her with pleading in his eyes. "You sure you can't float me until then?"

When Sam gave her one of those sweet smiles, Jeanine wanted to cry. He really was an adorable guy, but she had to obey her boss's rules or she would be without a job. "I'm sorry, Sam. I can't. I need this job, and if I don't collect, he'll fire me."

"It's okay," he said softly and patted her arm. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a money clip. "I can give you... half. Half now, half next week." He held up the folded bills and Jeanine took them. "So how about it?"

"Sam, I can't bend the rules!"

"Jeanine, is there a problem here?" Rico asked her while giving Sam a suspicious glare. When he looked at the older man, he saw the number one reason he had a policy of demanding that tabs be paid at the end of the month. He could tell this guy would stiff him if he had half the chance.

"No problem, Rico. We're just settling up." Sam stood and used his advantage of height against the little manager. He let his eyes wander over him for a second, then he put on his sunglasses and gave his attention to Jeanine. "It's okay, sweetie. I'll be back next week to take care of the rest." He pushed past Rico and headed south on the sidewalk. There were other bars along the street. He would find one that would be more hospitable to an ex-Navy SEAL who'd busted his butt serving his country. _Hmmm, now there's an idea. Never played up the former SEAL angle. Chicks dig all that glamorous secret stuff!_

Sam was not only stubborn, he was also resilient. He would get over this hump, find himself another watering hole, and hopefully a new crop of beauties to feast his eyes upon and maybe catch one or two. He was walking to the next bar when he spotted a familiar face that caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

"Lucy?"

The petite Asian woman in a suit that was too dark for Miami hurried north and glanced at her watch. She heard her name, looked up, glanced around, and her eyes fell on the familiar face ahead of her. She blinked and gaped at him. If it weren't for him taking off his sunglasses, letting her get a good look at his soulful eyes, she never would have recognized him. "Sam? Sam Axe?" She grinned and approached him.

"It's me," he replied with a grin, reached out, and his hands spanned her tiny waist. He slipped his arms around her and gave her a warm hug. "I can't believe it's you. Where have you been?"

"I was about to say the same thing." She hugged him back, then pulled away to get a better look. She shook her head. "Sorry to say this, but... you look like crap, Sam." Her hand brushed the side of his face where several days' worth of scruff grew. "You were always a lot more together than this." She glanced around quickly, then closed the distance between them. She whispered, "You're not undercover, are you?"

"The only undercover I do these days is between the sheets," he replied with a frown. "And let's just say it's been pretty lonely in that department lately." He could count on one hand the number of women he'd met that month.

"Oh, Sam." Lucy shook her head. "Hey, are you in a hurry?"

"No. Are you?"

"I'm supposed to meet with a client in an hour up there at the cafe. Come on, I'll buy you a latte or something." She threaded her arm through his and turned him to face north.

"A latte, huh?"

"Or whatever." Her smile brightened. "It's really good to see you, Sam, and I want to know what happened. Why you're here, what you're up to. And I'll tell you about what I've been doing since I left the CIA."

Lucy had always been a good friend, and he enjoyed working with her. He couldn't turn down her offer. "Okay. I have to warn you, it's nothing exciting."

"Well then, maybe I can help you there. Let's talk."

The journey to the cafe took him right past Carlito's. He ignored the glare Rico gave him and kept walking as if it never bothered him. Inside, however, he cringed. He'd hoped to make the place his base of operations, but now it appeared that those plans were on hold. He and Lucy situated themselves at a patio table at the cafe and ordered coffee, straight up. His friend leaned her crossed arms on the table and smiled at him, and after their coffees arrived, she began her interrogation.

"So, Sam, why are you in Miami? The last I heard, you were still running ops."

"It's a long story."

"Cut it down to ten minutes, if possible." Her smile widened.

"Okay. I screwed around with an admiral's wife, he sent me off to Columbia on a mission that was sure to fail. The admiral knew what was going on, and he set me up. If the truth came out, his career would have been over, so I became the scapegoat." He paused and took a sip of his coffee. "In the end, I walked away with a discharge, a one way ticket to Miami, a change of clothes, and an ice cold beer." He smirked. "So that's why I'm here. What about you? What's a nice girl like you doing in Miami?"

Lucy chuckled. "I should have known you'd get yourself into trouble."

"But I was doing the right thing."

Her eyes locked onto his. "I know. You never did the wrong thing, even if that's what the brass wanted you to do." She lifted her coffee cup and took a long drag. "That's one of the things I've admired about you, Sam. On a mission, you were always the moral compass."

"Yeah, I suppose. So, come on now, don't deflect." He grinned. "Why are you here?"

"I left the CIA. I got tired of the games and the red tape, and I decided to start my own company. I help people with all sorts of problems that the cops won't touch for one reason or another. I also do a lot of security consulting, background checks for employers, stuff like that." She smiled, and it lit up her eyes. "It's really satisfying work. Maybe you should come work with me. You look like you could use a boost."

"What kind of boost?"

"Money. Maybe then you could afford to shave once in awhile," she teased, then turned serious. "To tell you the truth, I could really use you on this case with the client I'm meeting in a few minutes. Why don't you stick around, see if you're interested, and you can help this poor woman?"

_She had to say it, that it was a woman. _"Okay. I'll check it out. But I'm not promising anything else."

"That's all I'm asking. I think once you hear her story, you'll want in."

Sam hated that Lucy knew him so well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He finished his cup and signaled for another as Lucy's eyes focused on something over his shoulder. He turned and discovered a well dressed woman heading their way. Sam didn't know designers, but he guessed that the woman was wearing some name at the height of fashion. She carried herself tall and proud on stiletto heels, yet half her face was hidden behind oversized sunglasses and a wide beach hat. She stopped at their table.

"Sylvia," Lucy greeted her with a smile as she rose. She glanced at Sam, and if she'd been closer, she would have jabbed him in the side with her elbow. It probably would have been ineffective anyway, as he appeared to be stunned by the woman's beauty. Just when it bordered on being rude, Sam recovered and quickly stood. Lucy silently thanked him for saving her the embarrassment.

"I'm so glad you could fit me in today, Lucy." She turned, removed her sunglasses, and gave Sam a full view of her emerald eyes. "Who's your friend?"

"Sylvia, this is Sam Axe. Sam, my client, Sylvia Marcus. Sam and I go way back."

The older woman smiled at him with thickly painted ruby lips as she held out her hand. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Axe. Lucy has been wonderful in helping me deal with my soon to be ex-husband."

Sam glanced at Lucy. "I thought you handled security issues, Luce."

"Well, this is something a little different, and that's why I was hoping you could help." She directed Sylvia to a seat between hers and Sam's. "Why don't we sit down and talk about it?"

"That's why I'm here," Sylvia declared with a smile and directed it Sam's way.

He'd been floored by her, but he wasn't so out of it that he would forget his manners. Sam pulled out the chair, and he was surprised to see Sylvia's stunned look. Then he felt a little self-conscious when she studied him. He figured she must not have expected such a thing from a scruffy looking guy. A charming smile disarmed her, and she sat in the chair while he in turn studied her. She was gorgeous, but her beauty wasn't natural. Besides wearing makeup that accentuated her eyes and lips, he noted that her skin had the appearance of a nip and tuck or two. He wondered how old she was, but he shook off that thought. It didn't matter. She was hot.

When she was settled, Sam sat in his chair. "Do you want some coffee, Sylvia?"

"Sure." The server arrived at their table and Sylvia ordered a cappuccino. Her eyes slowly took him in while they waited. She placed her thin handbag on the table and folded her hands over it. "So, Sam, you and Lucy are old friends?"

"Yeah, we met back in the day. She was CIA, I was a SEAL. We did some missions together, and let loose together on a few occasions."

"Don't worry about him, Sylvia. Sam likes to have his fun, but when he's on a job, he's all seriousness." Lucy pulled her chair closer to the table and laid her own hands on the surface. "I want you to tell him what you told me on the phone, so he knows what we're up against."

As she told her story of a messy divorce and her desire to catch her husband in a lie so that she could finally get what was rightfully hers, Sam realized that the whole thing was a slam dunk. In a couple of days he could have it wrapped up, and he would be back at Carlito's sipping mojitos, his tab paid. "I'll help you out, Sylvia." He gave her a dashing smile. "We'll get this done, and you won't have anything to worry about."

"Thank you, Sam. I'll be grateful, and to be sure, I'll definitely make it worth your while."

The way she looked at him, the Miami sun had nothing on her when it came to making him melt. Just the thought of her eyes on him that day was incentive for him to finish the job. He tailed Sylvia's husband, found his lover, photographed them together in compromising positions, and won her case of infidelity. Sam got paid, Lucy promised him more cases when she needed that special Sam Axe touch, and he went back to work at being retired. A couple of weeks later, he sat at his usual table working on his third mojito when a shadow fell over him. He looked up, squinting into the sun.

"Hello, Sam. Remember me? Sylvia."

His smile turned into a grin as he stood, eagerly this time. "How could I forget?" He took her hand and kissed it. But it was no ordinary kiss. He knew how to hit just the right spot to send shivers up and down a woman's spine. His eyes sparkled behind his sunglasses when he saw her reaction. A greeting like that was definitely not something to which she was accustomed! "How did things go in court?"

She licked her lips slowly, causing them to glisten as she smiled. "I'm no longer Mrs. James Marcus. I kept the condo, the car, the boat, the investments, and a healthy monthly maintenance fee. Thanks to you."

"Always glad to help."

She sat in the chair next to him and he returned to his seat, and as she spoke, he leaned in, giving her all his attention. She noticed. She studied him as she said, "My only concern is that I didn't thank you properly."

"Really?" He smirked. "What did you have in mind?"

"Meet me tonight at Bello's for dinner. And afterwards, we'll have drinks at my place. Sound good?"

"I'll be there," Sam replied softly. He smiled, leaned toward her, and kissed her cheek. His lips brushed the side of her face, and he heard her breath come out in a weak shudder. As he slowly pulled away, he said, "I'll be looking forward to it."

"So will I." She smiled, got out of her seat, and hurried away.

"You've got the mojo, Sammy." He muttered to himself. "Tonight, she's all yours."

Bello's was a high-end Italian restaurant, which would require him to clean up and look his best. Sam took care preparing himself, so that when Sylvia saw him again, she had to look twice to make sure he was the same man. Then her face fell as she stepped beside him and spoke softly. "I'm a little disappointed. I liked the five o'clock shadow."

Sam quipped, "That was more like five o'clock three days ago shadow."

"You're very amusing, Sam. Along with your charm and good looks, you're quite the package."

Sylvia wined and dined him, took him home, and had her way with him. He took full advantage of the situation, giving as good as he got. Even after he was exhausted, she wanted more, and he suddenly discovered that he'd found his niche. The young women were too concerned with curb appeal. The older ones had been around the block a few times and liked a little more dimension in their men. When it came to making love, Sam had a lot of dimension.

In exchange for the attention and affection that he showered on her, Sylvia gave him a much nicer place to live. Sam moved out of the motel and into an extravagantly furnished condo on the beach. He didn't live with Sylvia, which at first seemed odd, but it allowed him the freedom to do what he wanted and to come and go as he pleased. All he had to do was keep his phone on, so when Sylvia called, he could jump into the new car she gave him and meet her wherever she was. He got lost in the finer things, not even realizing that despite the perception of freedom, he was really a kept man. Sylvia called him her 'boy toy'. She was ten years older than him, but to the world she looked twenty years younger than her real age. Even if someone would have pointed it out to Sam, he wouldn't have cared. He was enjoying the arrangement too much to be concerned.

Sam knew all good things eventually came to an end, but he tried not to think about that in regards to Sylvia. Yet in the back of his mind he prepared an exit strategy, just in case. Then it happened: she said the three words that ruined everything.

"I love you, Sam." She uttered it as they lay twisted up in the tangled sheets, their bodies pressed close together. When he didn't respond, she asked, "Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" He pretended that he'd fallen asleep. "Oh, um, yeah."

She rolled to face him, placed her hand on his cheek, and said, "I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, it became more than just great sex. I love you, Sam! I didn't want to fall into that trap again, but I did, and... and I don't know what to do about it." She let out an uneven breath and her eyes met his in the dim light. "Do you love me?"

He had to think about that question. His automatic reaction would have been a resounding 'No', but what if he did? He'd been hurt by that emotion before, and he'd promised himself that he wouldn't fall easily again. His mind raced as he thought about all that he would miss if he gave her the wrong answer. He loved the condo and all the perks of their relationship, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her in order to hang onto everything.

His silence answered for him. She bit her bottom lip and slowly pulled away from him until she sat up in the bed. Her hand reached for the sheet and covered her naked flesh as she blinked and looked away. "I think you better leave."

"Yeah." Sam untangled himself quickly and slipped out of bed. He found his clothes among hers on the floor, dressed hastily, and he was out the door in a matter of minutes without looking back. He was sorry to see it end, and sorry that her heart was broken, but when they both started this it was quite clear that neither of them was looking for love. She changed the game, and so it was over. He drove back to the condo and started packing immediately, and in the morning he took a cab to the trusty motel that had been his initial home. He left the keys to the condo and the car on the kitchen counter as he walked out the door.

"Sam. I have a job for you."

"I'll be right there, Lucy." Thank God for his friend and her impeccable timing to bring him an assignment just in time to get his mind off Sylvia. He told himself it wasn't that he loved her. He would just miss the fun they had. He consoled himself with the fact that she was only one of many fish in the sea, and he had no doubt he'd soon find another.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Working for Lucy had its perks. Not only could he make some good money for just a little bit of time and effort, it proved to be a gateway to meeting more beautiful, older, mostly divorced women in the Miami area.

He found Lauren at a charity dinner that he attended with Lucy because her date bailed on her, and if Sam didn't use it, the ticket would go to waste. It was a stuffy affair with black tie and evening gowns, which generally bored Sam to tears. He changed his mind when he saw her on the other side of the dance floor. Their eyes met, and she lost all interest in the councilman she was chatting up. Sam straightened his bow tie and circumnavigated the floor to where she stood.

"Sam Axe," he spoke first, introducing himself.

"Lauren McNamara. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Axe."

He smiled and zeroed in on her eyes as if she were the only woman in the room while he held onto her hand. "Please, call me Sam."

"Alright, Sam. You can call me Lauren. Would you..."

"... care to dance?" His smile widened. "I'd love to."

Dance lessons, a gift from his lady friend Abigail, paid off in the end. His prowess on the dance floor led to his hooking up with Lauren for a couple of weeks, until he found out she was still married. Then he did the two step right out of her life and, womanless again, he returned to the motel.

"Back again, Samuel?" Trudy, the motel owner/manager, a widow in her late 70s, shook her head as she gave him the key to his room, the one she started keeping empty for him. Like a boomerang, he always came back, whether it was a week or two, or a month.

"Yeah, Trudy. I'm back." He sighed and took the key with no explanation. There was no need, because she was like his mother. Trudy always knew when he met another woman and would be moving out, and like a mother, when the relationship failed she was there to give him his key and a piece of advice.

"You ought to find yourself a good woman, dear. Someone who truly loves you." She flapped a hand. "Believe me, I know. Those rich Miami women come a dime a dozen, and they'll chew you up and spit you out. Don't ever believe a word they say. Barracudas can't be trusted." She shook her head slowly and with drama, then reached across the counter and patted the hand he left resting there. "Look for a good girl, Samuel. There are plenty of them out there, despite what you might think."

He thought it was cute the way she used his given name, but he was never attracted to her. She reminded him too much of his mom, except for the fact that Trudy had once been one of those rich Miami society women. When her husband died, her life came crashing down around her. By the time the dust settled, she had the motel, no other assets, and a few thousand dollars in the bank. The motel kept her in a more humble, yet comfortable, state. For some reason, Sam didn't mind that she took an interest in his life. Maybe because outside of Lucy, she was the only one who really cared about him.

"Oh, since you're around for a little while again, Samuel dear, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure." In exchange for a break on the rent, he took care of general repairs around the place. It was a win-win situation for both of them. "What do you need?"

"The lawnmower has been giving me fits again. I think it needs some major work."

"I'll take a look at it this afternoon." Sam smiled at her and left the office to get settled into his apartment. It didn't take long, since all he owned that wasn't in storage fit into a suitcase, a suit bag, and a large duffel. Once he was settled in, he went out to the small shed at the back of the property that butted up against a canal. A small pleasure craft cruised by with a bunch of young women and guys in it, all barely clothed. That was a typical scene in Miami, so much so that most times he barely noticed any more unless he was on the prowl.

Sam tore his eyes away from the sight and went to work. He soon discovered that the job required a trip to the hardware store, so he borrowed Trudy's car, got the parts he needed, and by late afternoon had the lawnmower running like a champ. Despite the heat, he even mowed the lawn for her. As he did so, he thought about their relationship. She did remind him of his mom in a lot of ways, especially her kindness. A small part of him was flattered that she somehow, in her loneliness, found him worthy to latch onto. No doubt tonight she would ask him to share dinner with her. Hey, a free meal was a free meal. He patted his stomach, which had begun to overlap his waist band a little too much. All those rich women and fine restaurants were taking their toll.

Maybe it's time to step back a little and take care of me for awhile.

A noble thought, but one he wasn't likely to act upon unless he was womanless for a good length of time.

"I can't believe you fixed the mower, Samuel!" Trudy exclaimed as he entered the office to give her the receipt for the parts. She glanced at it and frowned. "For that price you could have bought a new one, couldn't you have, hon?"

"Trust me, Trudy, that old girl still has plenty of life in her, at a fraction of the cost of a new mower. I know, I looked at them while I was at the store."

"You worked so hard this afternoon. Please stay for dinner! I'm making your favorite, my special lasagna recipe." Her smile widened.

"You didn't have to..."

"Yes, I did. You do a lot around here, when you're here."

Sam felt a motherly lecture coming on about his numerous amours, but he accepted anyway. "Okay, I'll stay for dinner."

"Good boy, Samuel!" She pinched his dimple with a gentle affection and retreated to the kitchen. "Come along! Let's chat while I finish up preparations! You can wash up in there," she said, jutting her chin toward the bathroom as if it was his first time in her home.

"Thanks." His guard was up through dinner. He answered most of her questions, but some of them were way too personal and graphic for his taste. She was asking things that not even his own mother would question him about if she had the chance. Finally, he let out a deep sigh, folded his napkin and lay it alongside his plate.

"Trudy, I really appreciate you cooking for me and everything, but I'd really wish you wouldn't ask me all these things."

"Samuel, the only reason I do it is because I care." Her brow crinkled and her eyes moistened as she continued. "You remind me so much of my son, or at least what I envision my son would be like now. He was a ladies' man too, and I know how empty it made him." She shook her head. "He would never admit it, but a mother can see, Samuel. She knows." She reached across the small table and covered his hand with her wrinkled one. "My heart breaks for you, dear. All I ask is that you really think about what you're doing. You need love, not wealth or gorgeous women and sex without commitment."

Sam pulled his hand out from under hers and held it up, signaling her to stop. "I'm sorry, Trudy, you really don't know what's going on with my life." He pushed his chair back and stood. "The meal was delicious as usual, Trud, but I have to go. Good night." Sam quickly turned on his heel and marched out of her apartment. He hated to see the hurt look on her face, but it was her own fault for butting into something that was none of her business.

He returned to his apartment, took a shower, donned a suit, and went out to the clubs. Whether he found another woman or not made no difference. It was stifling in his small space, he felt uncomfortable after Trudy's attempt at intervention, and he needed to get away. Pushing his way through the crowd at a club where he usually had good luck, he accidentally brushed up against a bleach blonde in a skin tight dress. It hugged her body so close, he almost couldn't sense the fabric between her body and his.

"Hey!"

He heard her exclamation, quickly followed by a wetness down his front at her drink splashed on him. He looked down, then up at her. Unable to keep the anger out of his voice he yelled over the loud music. "Why'd you do that? I was just trying to get past!"

Her own expression softened and she grimaced. "Sorry, I didn't do it on purpose. It's way too close in here!"

Sam ran a hand down his shirt to wick away whatever moisture hadn't soaked in, looked up at her again, and smiled in a way that made his dimple appear, which never failed to charm a lady. "Yes, it is. Do you come here often?" He rolled his eyes at the lame line and shook his head. "Sorry, what I meant was..."

Her laugh and the light touch of her hand on his arm got his attention. "It's okay, I know what you meant. Why don't we get out of here? It's hard to talk with this music!"

They both breathed in the fresh salty air as the club disgorged them onto the sidewalk. The music pounded through the walls and leaked outside, reminding them of why they left. "Come on, let's walk. My name's Sam. Sam Axe."

"Stella. Stella Vincent." She smiled and fell into step beside him. "In answer to your question, I've never been to that club before. A friend recommended it, but it seems like it's way too crowded."

"Well, some nights are more popular than others. I know a place down the street here where it's a lot quieter." He led her to Carlito's, and they parked themselves on a couch near the back. After a few minutes spent people watching, he asked, "Is this better?"

"Much. Thanks for the suggestion, Sam." She clinked her glass with his and drank. "So, are you a native?"

"Nope. I just wanted to come to Miami when I retired because it was the farthest thing from my life in the Navy."

"Navy man," she purred. "I always thought those summer whites were sexy." Her body turned toward his as she laid her arm over the couch back. Her hand played with a few curls at the nape of his neck. "What rank were you?"

"Commander." He'd never had a woman ask that before. It kind of rattled him, because he tried so hard to bury that past, and the only time he dredged it up was when he wanted to impress a woman. Beyond saying he was a SEAL, they never asked questions, which was fine by him. So, to get it out of the way, he volunteered, "I was a SEAL."

Stella's eyebrow went up, and her smile took on a predatory slant. "I like SEALs. I bet you've been all over the world."

"Not everywhere, but yeah, I've been to a lot of places." He turned toward her, not sure where this was going. "What about you?"

"I'm a buyer for a chain of import stores, so I'm a globetrotter. I'm here on business, and hopefully a little pleasure." Her knee pressed gently between his as she reached over to set her drink on the coffee table in front of them. With her eyes locked onto his, her hand skimmed up his thigh. "I've known a lot of men, Sam, but there's just something about you that appeals to my baser... tastes."

"Really."

Stella lunged forward, pressed her body into his, and kissed him passionately. Caught by surprise, Sam's hands hung in the air for a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around her and enjoyed the attention. She was good. Definitely experienced and knew how to bring every nerve in his body to life. When they came up for air, she knelt on the cushions, her breasts in the low cut dress heaving as she caught her breath.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered. "My hotel is just a block away."

She didn't have to ask. Sam only wished it wasn't so far away, because the anticipation was almost enough to make him lose control. Discipline. That was one thing that had been drilled into him during his career, and while he liked to throw it out the window in his retirement, sometimes it came in handy. He followed her to the hotel and into the elevator, allowing her to push him into the corner and slather him with kisses. He held onto the railings that ran around the inside. It was either that or risk collapsing to the floor.

Stella hurried them to her room, slipped the keycard into the slot, and pushed open the door. She almost forgot to take the keycard back, but Sam pulled it out and she took it from him with a smile full of desire.

"Thanks." She held onto his lapel, pulled him into the room, and he closed the door behind them. The keycard went flying, missing the credenza, but she didn't care. Stella was too busy unzipping her dress.

Sam felt like he was in the middle of a blitzkrieg operation as Stella barely got her dress undone and reached out, pushed her hands under his suit jacket, and stripped it off his shoulders in one smooth move. Her hands pulled on his shirt and she collided with him, her lips pressed against his, and she moved his hands behind her and encouraged him to help her undress. Pieces of clothing fell like rain as they took steps toward the bed, groping each other with abandon. Stella fell on the bed and opened herself to him. He couldn't wait any longer, and their bodies quivered as they fell over the edge together. Stella was insatiable, so he spent the night alternating between sleep and pleasing her.

In the morning, he woke up and she was gone. He picked up his clothes which were scattered about and discovered that his t-shirt was missing. Whether that was intentional or not, he had no clue. As he moved about dressing, he realized that Stella was gone. The room was empty of anything personal except for his clothes and a Russian nesting doll sitting on the credenza. After he was dressed, he picked it up and pulled the ornate, brightly colored halves apart. Then he pulled apart the nested doll inside and went down two more levels until he reached the last one. Inside, she left a business card with her name and phone number on it. Sam smiled. He slipped the card into his wallet after programming the number into his phone. Then he assembled the dolls, picked up the unique souvenir she left him, and snuck out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

He'd been gone six months straight this time. Trudy shook her head as she watched Sam get out of the little Neon and head for his room.

"Well, look at that," she muttered. "You've got yourself some wheels. Or did a lady friend give you that as a souvenir?" There was a little bite in her tone and in the morning air as she left the office and met him on the walkway in front of the door where he stuck his key into the lock.

"Samuel." She smiled at him and unclenched her arms from around herself, opening them wide.

"Trudy." Sam hung his head, unable to look at her. He picked up his suitcase and duffel and prepared to go inside.

"Oh, come on now! Drop those things this minute and give me a hug! I missed you!"

A sheepish smile graced Sam's lips. He tossed his bags just inside the door, turned, and allowed her to take him into her arms. She was so short, he had to bend over to hug her in response. She sighed deeply as she tightened her grip and kissed his cheek in a motherly fashion. Then she pulled away and studied the wounded look on his face.

"This one must have been special. If I'd known you were going to be gone this long, I wouldn't have told you to keep the key. But I was tired of asking for it back, only to have you come around again not long after and need it again." She paused and added, "You fell in love this time, didn't you?"

His eyelids fluttered closed and his head dipped even more.

She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Ohhh, Samuel. That's what happens when you play with matters of the heart. Sometimes you're going to get burned." Trudy paused, wondering whether she should go further. But she cared too much for Samuel. He needed to hear it. "Now you know how the women feel when they've fallen hard for you!" He stared at her, incomprehension in his expression. "Don't give me that look! You mean you've never thought about how they feel?"

"No, I haven't." He closed his eyes a moment, opened them again, and looked at her. "When we get involved, they know what they're in for. I can't make that commitment."

"Do they really know that, or are you just trying to ease your conscience?"

He tore his gaze away, sighed, and planted his hands firmly on his hips. "I don't really wanna talk about this, Trud. Okay?" He turned toward the door and asked over his shoulder. "How's the lawnmower been?"

She planted a fist on her hip and replied in a clipped tone. "It's fine."

"Great. I'll, uh, cut the grass after I'm settled in, unless you've got somebody else doing that now."

"I pay a college kid to do it when he has time, but he's unreliable. When you're around, I can always count on you."

Ouch, that hurt! "Okay, well, I don't plan on going anywhere for awhile. I'll take care of it."

As the days and weeks passed, Sam was true to his word. He limited his time at Carlito's and confined his activities to drinking, studying the women, but not looking for a good time. He kept in better touch with Lucy and tried to get some cases from her.

"Sam, I don't know..."

"You can trust me to get the jobs done, Luce. If it's the women that you've got a problem with, well, I've sworn them off for an indefinite period." Even Lucy couldn't discount the defeated tone in his voice and body language.

"I could have told you this would happen." Lucy scolded him, and he took it because he knew he deserved it. "I'll see if I can throw a few more things your way to help you get your mind off... things."

"Thanks, Lucy. I owe you."

She smiled. "I wish I knew how to collect."

If he'd been in a better mood, he might have suggested some ways, but every one was out of the question. He respected Lucy too much to have a fling with her. Besides, other than Trudy, she was the only friend he had in Miami at the moment. He needed all the buddies he could get, because he was feeling pretty low.

"I've got one here. A lawyer, thinks his wife has been embezzling his practice's funds. Check it out." She tossed him the file folder across the desk. "She lives here in Miami part time, although it's winter now, so she'll be around until things warm up again in New York."

"She'll be easy enough to find, then."

"Sam." He tore his attention from the folder and looked up at her with questioning eyes. She continued, "I know this is a really bad time to be asking you this, but it may be important to this case. Can you use your Sam Axe charm on her, get her into an affair with you?"

He paled. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yes. If you can get her interested, it'll allow you unique access so you can find out what's really going on."

"Lucy, I try to make it a point not to mess with married women." He saw the doubt parade across her face. "I usually find out later, and then I'm gone! Scout's honor!"

"If there's any other way, do it. But if you have to get... closer..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll see what I can do."

The file made it easy to find Alexis. He checked out all her favorite restaurants and clubs, where she liked to shop, and even the pilates studio where she worked out. He followed her for several days until he knew her routine. He didn't see any opportunities for her to cook the books and pocket her husband's profits, but then he didn't have access to her condo. He didn't know what she did there when she wasn't out spending money. Like preparing to dive into ice cold water, Sam took another couple of days to acclimate himself to the idea that he was risking a lot. This time, however, he would be careful and shield his heart.

He met Alexis at the beach. She didn't seem that interested at first, but then he stumbled upon a breakthrough. He could tell by the shape of her feet that she spent many hours in heels, so he took a chance and mentioned that he could dance. Her face lit up as she said, "I love to dance! There's this little club I like to go to where I'm on my feet all night, kicking up my heels!"

"Do you have a partner?"

Her eyes peered over her sunglasses and a sly smile slashed across her face. "Why? Are you volunteering?"

"Baby, I thought you'd never ask." He winked.

She threw her head back and laughed. "Well, that's settled. I'll meet you at the Coconut Grove Ballroom at seven tonight, Sam."

He took her hand and placed a light kiss on it. "I'll be there with dancing shoes on, Alexis!"

One night of hot sexy ballroom dancing, and he had Alexis eating out of the palm of his hand, so to speak. It was almost too easy, but it boosted his ego. He just had to be careful and keep his heart protected. This was a job, plain and simple. Remembering that helped the passion become even more impersonal, but still just as delicious. She was older, still well preserved, and he again found himself being called a 'boy toy'. He was getting used to it, and he was learning how to act the part. It became easier as time went by to take what the women gave in return for a little romance. He laced his interactions with chivalry and personal knowledge of what drove a woman crazy with desire, not one of them walked away disappointed, and he had a lot of fun and satisfied his libido. Alexis was just another conquest, but with a twist. He had to find out if she was stealing from her husband.

Getting access to her condo, it quickly became apparent that she wasn't skimming off her husband's business. She had one of her own that he had no knowledge of, but when he found out, and discovered that his wife and Sam were having an affair, Alexis soon found herself served with divorce papers.

"I'm sorry about that," Sam said as he held her back against his body, and they stared down at the legal papers.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later, Sam. His practice was a lot more important than I was to him. He never even knew when I left for Miami." She shook her head, broke out of Sam's arms and threw the papers on the table. She turned to him, anger still flashing in her eyes, and she said, "Come on, let's go. I've got a headache and it needs something to make it go away." Her eyebrow rose.

Sam still felt uneasy about his role in the breakdown of her marriage. Some may have thought he was a careless womanizer, but he always drew the line at married women. Especially after what happened with the admiral's wife. No woman was ever going to screw up his life again, and avoiding the married ones saved him a lot of headaches.

"Come on, Sammy," Alexis said with a pout. She pulled on his hand and led him to the bedroom.

"Okay." He drew out the syllable as he allowed her to pull him into the room.

With the case on Alexis completed, he didn't have to see her anymore. At first, he resisted her calls, but all it took was one moment of weakness and he was hers again. She gave him an apartment and expected him to be at her beck and call. This time, however, he kept his place at Trudy's and spent more time there. The apartment was for his trysts with Alexis. Fortunately, with her own business to run, she didn't have a lot of time for him and it was almost as if they weren't even together, which helped to ease his conscience.

"Sam, you're an idiot."

"Gee, thanks, friend," Sam snapped at Lucy as he sat in her office.

She dropped into her chair and swiveled it as she stared at him. "I thought you were done with women for awhile. You went and slept with a client! How could you?"

"You asked me to have an affair with her. How else could I make it real enough?"

"Too real, apparently."

"Yeah, I didn't expect it to go over that well." He glanced up at Lucy and gave her a quirky smile. "Hey, Alexis is usually too busy to spend time with me, anyway. And she says her marriage was over a long time ago, so I didn't really do any damage..."

"I can't believe that actually helps you sleep at night." Lucy's narrowed eyes bored into him, and he swore he could feel the laser like heat. "What is wrong with you? You used to be a man of integrity, Sam, and now you'll jump into bed with any skirt that looks at you the right way." He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand and interrupted him. "Don't even try the 'I'm just having fun, winding down from the pressure and stress of my SEAL days, blah blah blah.' That doesn't fly with me."

He shrugged. "Well then, I guess there's nothing to talk about." He stood and turned toward the door. He made it there in four strides, but he found the petite woman standing ground in front of it when he got there. "What? What do you want from me, Luce?"

"I want you to talk to someone about this." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a card, grabbed his hand, and placed it in his palm.

"This is a shrink. I don't need that kind of help!"

"I think you do. This has gone way beyond the old days on shore leave. You're playing with emotions, Sam, and it's not fair to them. It's not right." She paused, looked up into his eyes, and said, "Think about your self-respect, Sam. The guy I knew would be ashamed of himself now."

"Well, I'm not that man anymore, Lucy. The admiral made sure of that." His hand closed on the card and he dropped it into his pocket. "Will it make you feel better if I talk to someone about this? Maybe not this guy, but..."

"Anybody. I don't care if it's your grandma, if she can help you see what you're doing to these women and yourself by playing Russian roulette with emotions, I'm all for it."

"Alright. Now, about that job?"

Lucy sighed and led Sam back to her desk. She pulled the file and set it before him. "This is small time stuff, Sam. I can't put anybody on this, because the guy doesn't have the kind of cash we'd be asking for to clear his name."

Sam picked up the file and skimmed it. "Okay, I'll do it. But I'd like to get a partner on this one."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Give me a couple days to find somebody."

She nodded. "Just keep in mind that right now, Javier is a 'person of interest' in this burglary. The cops might arrest him at any time, and he's a widower with a kid. Just think what'll happen to his son if he winds up behind bars."

"Don't worry."

Sam left her office and Lucy watched him go with doubt in her eyes. Yeah, don't worry. I used to be able to trust you, Sam, but with this whole woman business, now I'm not so sure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was Wednesday, which meant it was time for some mojitos and beer at Carlito's. Things were sort of on with Alexis. Sam hadn't heard from her for a few days, so he wasn't quite sure. He stayed at his place at Trudy's, just in case things were off. And against his better judgement, he ogled the women as each pretty one walked by. One gave him a smile, and she was really hot, but she kept walking.

"No, no, don't go away," he muttered. A shadow fell across the table and he looked up. His eyes widened. "Mike? You look like you need to sit down. What happened to you?"

"Long story." He looked around as if he was searching for a tail.

Sam spotted the gray Crown Vic a half block away and the two Feds in it. "Yeah, somebody's got an interest in you. Hey, have a seat, take a load off. You want a beer?" He waved the server over. "Hey Jeannie, set my friend up here with a beer."

"Sure thing, Sam." She gave the bruised man a once-over and shook her head.

Once Michael was seated, Sam got a better look at him. "Mikey, you look like you got stomped on!" He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Lucy told me you got burned."

Michael locked his gaze on Sam. "Yeah, I don't know by whom. All I know is that I woke up in a motel, dumped here in Miami, with Fi by my bedside."

"Jeez, if that doesn't sound like the nightmare from hell, I don't know what does!" Sam took a long draw on his beer.

Michael ignored the slam on his ex-girlfriend. "All my assets and accounts have been frozen, I have no credit, and I've got less than a hundred bucks in my pocket."

"I wish I could help you out there, brother. I'll do a little digging around with some of my old buddies, see if I can find out anything, but that's about all I can do. I'm not exactly clearance material these days." He took another swig. "I'm just a washed up, out of shape, drunk ex-SEAL."

He felt Michael's eyes on him, studying him intently. By the thin lipped expression on his face, Sam knew he felt pity for him. Then Michael said, "I can't believe you're using women so you can live the good life. That's just not you."

"Yeah, well, when you've lost everything, let's see what you do."

Michael gave him a pointed stare. "I have lost everything, and I'm looking to do a job to make some money and bounce back from this. Lucy said you had something cooking, and you needed a partner."

"Yeah, but if you're gonna do it, there's not much sense in me tagging along, is there? You'll have it wrapped up by yourself in a day. The mighty Michael Westen, super spy, is on the job."

He didn't know what to make of his friend's sarcasm. "Sam."

"Yeah, go for it! It's all yours, unless you think you need me to go along and hold your hand." He smirked.

"No, I can do this. You sure you don't want to work it with me?"

"Heck no! I work with you, and you'll be harping on me about how I handle something. No thanks, I get enough of that from Lucy."

Michael inclined his head to one side and watched his old friend as he tore into another beer. Lucy told him Sam had issues with women in Miami, but she didn't elaborate. To Michael, Sam looked like a man who'd lost his confidence and self-worth. That fiasco in Columbia and the subsequent kangaroo court really did a number on him, because he never knew Sam Axe to shy away from a mission or expect to be second fiddle on anything. He was always a team player. Something went wrong, and he was scared to take a step forward. Maybe after the job, he could talk to him and find out what it was.

When the job was finished, it wasn't long before another one came along, courtesy of Michael's mother. He couldn't do it alone, so he enlisted Sam and Fiona's aid. One case led to another, and before he knew it, the trio gelled into a team. They all made some money, and it kept Sam from drowning in a mixture of self-pity and beer, or wasting himself acting as some woman's plaything. Even better, it gave him a purpose again, and every success built up his confidence. He didn't even tell Michael or Fiona when he stopped seeing Alexis. Now and then he'd mention a lady friend, but the one that made the most impact was Trudy.

Sam let himself in to the loft and found Michael and Fiona sitting at the bar working on a couple of yogurts. "Hey, Mike, Fi."

"Sam." Michael knew from the look on Sam's face that something was wrong. "Wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Sam answered, and he walked around the bar, opened the fridge and looked in side. "What the hell... There's no beer in here, Mike!"

"Sorry, I haven't been to the store this week."

Sam threw the fridge door closed and walked toward the exit without a word. Fiona glanced at Michael with wide eyes. Even she knew something was definitely wrong with Sam. Go, stop him!

Michael heeded the message in her eyes and trotted to catch up with him. Just as Sam reached for the door, Michael pulled his arm back.

"What?" Sam stood with hands on hips, his body straight in a defensive position.

"Sam, come on. Come on back here and talk to us. Then we'll go to Carlito's and get a beer. Okay?" He used a soft tone to disarm Sam, and grasped his elbow. Then he led him back to the bar. "Something's bothering you. Tell us what it is, and we'll do what we can to help."

Sam let out a sigh and leaned over the bar. He was so grateful for his friends, because he really didn't want to be alone right now to try to deal with this. "I went back to the motel. I was gonna give Trudy my rent, you know, and I was a little late with it because we didn't get paid right away from that last job." He paused and wordlessly accepted the glass of water Fiona gave him. He turned it absently on the bar as he continued. "I found her in the office." His eyes watered and he swallowed hard before turning to face his friends. "She's dead, Mike. They said she had an aneurysm or something. She probably never even knew what hit her."

"Wow, Sam. I'm sorry."

Fiona came around to his other side and ran a hand over his back in an attempt to comfort him. "Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know." Tear tracks ran down his face as he tried to keep himself together. "She's got no... nobody. Her husband's dead. Her son was killed in Iraq. She's got no other family to... to take care of... things." He bowed his head and dropped it to rest on his folded hands. Fiona's hand on his back felt good, but it could never wipe away the sorrow he felt at losing the woman who had become like a mother to him.

"We'll help you with the arrangements. If you need money, whatever, we'll help." Michael offered his and Fi's assistance with a thick voice.

"Thanks. I'm thinking she had to have some kind of estate to take care of funeral expenses or something, but I don't know."

"We'll go over to the motel office tomorrow and see if we can find anything."

"Good idea, Mike." He was glad Michael thought of it, because at the moment, his mind was working in neutral.

"Why don't you stay here tonight," Michael suggested.

"I don't wanna be in the way."

"You won't be," Fiona replied. "I have my own place, remember? I'll be here tomorrow morning, and we'll all go to the motel together."

"Thanks, Fi."

"Try and get some sleep," she advised as she patted his arm and walked out the door.

"Fi, wait up." Michael followed her and held her back half way down the stairs. They spoke in low tones so Sam wouldn't hear them through the open windows. "That was really sweet of you. I know how you feel about Sam..."

"Michael, he's changed. He's not the cheap womanizer he was when we first met. He's starting to care about people besides himself." She paused and sniffled. "I have no doubt that Trudy had something to do with it."

"Probably. I haven't talked to him about it, but I should. And I will. Tonight." He placed a soft kiss on her lips. "See you tomorrow, Fi."

"Good night, Michael." She turned and tapped down the steps.

He stayed and watched until she left the courtyard and closed the gate behind her. Then he went back inside and found Sam sitting in the chair near the bed, staring ahead, his index finger running along his bottom lip.

"You okay?"

Sam's head came up, his trance broken. "Yeah, Mike. I knew this would happen some day, but she seemed like she was in such good health." He took a sip of the water and made a face. "I need something stronger."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Sam let out a long breath, dropped his head back, and replied, "Trudy and I used to hang out now and then, usually when I came crawling back after another failed relationship. She had this bottle of brandy. I hate brandy! But she'd always make me sit down with her and have one. I don't know if she thought she was punishing me, trying to make me change my ways by making me drink that crap. I don't know." A small, sad smile crossed his face and then was gone. His head rose and he said, "I'm feeling like I need a brandy, Mike."

Michael nodded. "Okay, just one?"

"Just one."

"Fine. Let's go." He drove Sam to Carlito's, ordered three brandies, one for him, one for Sam, and one for Trudy.

Sam sipped on his and made a face. "Still don't like it. The stuff Trudy had was better."

"Maybe we should have gone to her office, then."

"No." Sam shook his head. "That would have been too hard." He took another sip and swallowed. "I'm sorry I never told her how much I appreciated her friendship, and her love." He blinked rapidly. "I didn't see it until now what she was doing, Mike. She loved me when nobody else did, when I didn't even like myself. I had nothing, no career, I had to leave with my tail between my legs, and I came to a place where I didn't know anybody. I thought I was free, but I was so enslaved by my depression I never even saw it."

"I'm glad she was here for you. I hate to think what might have happened otherwise."

"I'd probably be dead from all the partying or some kind of disease." He smirked. "That's one thing she always said to me, when I wouldn't listen to her telling me to stop the cycle..." He lifted a finger and shook it in the air as he spoke. "'Always protect yourself, Samuel. You never know what these skanky women are carrying!'" His laughter came out in a staccato pattern. "She was a smart lady. With a few exceptions, I heeded her advice." He fell silent for a long time as he finished his drink. When the last drop was gone, he said, "I'm going to miss hearing her call me Samuel."

Michael clamped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I understand. Let's go back to the loft now."

"Okay." He stared at the still full glass sitting before the empty chair. Without thinking, he picked it up, threw it down in one gulp, and it burned his throat, but he didn't care. He set the glass down with a thump, and with a hoarse voice, he said, "Now we can go."

As Michael lay alone in his bed, he heard Sam wrestling with his emotions upstairs on the couch. He didn't know if his friend would appreciate him butting in when he cried. He didn't even know what he could do to ease his pain. He'd never lost anyone he loved, and maybe in that sense, Sam had him beat. Michael had divorced himself from love and getting close to people, because it made things easier to deal with if he didn't care for an asset. Fiona was an exception. He feared that some day, the feelings he had for her would come back to bite him, but until then, he would flirt with danger. He heard Sam groan, shift, and sit up. He decided to get up and see if he could help.

"Sam?" Michael padded up to the loft he built as an office.

"Yeah, Mike. I'm awake." He reached out and turned on the desk lamp. "Can't sleep. What's your excuse?"

"You're too restless." Michael grinned and sat beside him on the couch.

"I was thinking about how Trudy didn't have anybody but me to take care of things. I helped her with repairs and stuff around the place, and if there were some difficult tenants, I'd go have a talk with them. I could usually get them to pay the rent if they were late, or turn down the loud music, whatever. And now I have to arrange her final resting place." He sighed. "Who's gonna do that for me when I'm gone? I can't imagine any of my lady friends would even bother to show up for the funeral."

"Fi and I will be there."

"And Maddie, if she's still around?"

"Sure, Sam."

Sam nodded his head. "Yeah, can't imagine Veronica being there, not after what happened. Of all the women, she's the one that hurt the most when we broke up. I mean, really hurt, kind of like I do now." He grabbed the pillow and hugged it.

Michael didn't know what to say about that, so he stayed quiet. They sat together, not speaking, and sometime shortly before dawn Sam's head dropped back and he fell asleep. Michael got off the couch, carefully positioned him on his back, and went downstairs to try to get some sleep himself.

**Epilogue**

When Sam told his friends that Elsa called him her 'boy toy', he saw the horrified look on Fi's face, and the embarrassed expression on Mike's. It suddenly hit him why they reacted that way. When he was using women and being used by them like it was a game, the term never bothered him. It was degrading, and he never saw it until that moment. So he covered up with a smile and a laugh. It bothered him all day, to the point that he resolved that he needed to straighten this out before things went any further.

He met Elsa that night for dinner on her yacht, which would most likely be followed by some dessert below deck. That thought kept his anxiety at the forefront. All through the meal, he was restless and mostly picked at his food. He had to talk to her, but he didn't know how to broach the subject. Maybe somewhere between dinner and drinks, before things got too heavy.

"Sammy, something's wrong. What is it?"

He looked up at her, his eyes wide, and blurted out the question. "Elsa, do you love me?"

She laughed. "What?"

"Do you love me, or are you just using me for sex?" He saw he had her speechless. "You call me your 'boy toy', like I'm some cheap plaything. Is that all I am to you?"

Elsa's mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. Finally, she said, "I have feelings for you, Sammy."

He dropped his fork on the china with a clatter and leaned forward. "Do... you... love... me?"

She shot back. "Do you love me?"

His posture relaxed as he picked up his wine glass and swirled the red liquid. "I care about you a lot, but I'm not sure if I love you yet. Maybe I do. I've been hurt before, Elsa, and I want to be sure before I say so." He took a sip. "I hope you can understand that."

"I do."

"So, if you're just using me to have fun, I have to walk away before I get hurt again."

Elsa's chest rose as she took a deep breath. "What brought this on?"

"Simple. I'm not going to be any woman's toy anymore. I have too much self-respect for that." He set his glass down and looked deeply into her eyes. "Please answer the question. How do you feel about me?"

She smiled. "I have feelings for you too, Sam, but..."

"But?"

"I need to think about what you've said."

His heart sank, and he suddenly realized that he had more than just 'feelings' for her. He recovered nicely, though. "Okay, I can deal with that." Sam pushed his chair back, dropped his napkin over his nearly full plate, and took two steps around the table to stand before her. He kissed her cheek and said, "Call me when you decide you really want a relationship. I won't settle for anything less than your love."

Without another word, he turned and walked away down the gangplank, along the pier, and passed the Cadillac that she'd given him as a gift. Instead, he walked back to Trudy's motel, now owned by someone else. He set himself up for this just in case and had stopped by earlier in the day to move his things into his room. When he lay on his bed, it felt like an old friend as he settled into the lumpy mattress. He used to think that living life with no strings attached was a good thing, but he remembered Trudy telling him, "When it comes to love, Samuel, strings are the ties that bind two hearts together. Without them, there is nothing. Insist on the strings if she really loves you."

He did it. He demanded strings, but she couldn't do it. Maybe some day Elsa would change her mind, but in the meantime he was able to sleep with his conscience free for the first time in years.


End file.
